


Date My Daddy

by Azurarain



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire, Derek is a Softie, Dysfunctional Family, Family Drama, First Meetings, Fluff and Angst, Gay Stiles, Hurt Derek, Kid Fic, M/M, Protective Stiles, Single dad Derek
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2018-11-28 11:09:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11416692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azurarain/pseuds/Azurarain
Summary: "Will you be my daddy's friend?"Stiles should have took off running at the adorable girl's question, but instead gives a stranger his number. Hoping he will call.





	1. Chapter 1

People always say after a certain age your life is pretty much down hill. You get older, find gray hairs and wrinkles, things start to sag and you just get, to put it bluntly, , old and wondering what happened to the best years of your life.

Stiles Stilinksi hadn't yet reached twenty five and knew he should be looking forward to at least another decade before he felt well and truly like a failure for 'not having accomplished anything' but- kids. Kids were definitely something he felt pressured and annoyed about. Small faces, dirty hands, they were all around him at every turn and yet-

"And then they ripped each other's guts out and their heads started exploding. It was awesome!" A dirty blonde haired boy was excitedly telling the story of whatever franchise the action figure he held in his hands came from to a tall, dark haired man.

The man, his father, most likely, sounded appalled. Stiles couldn't see much besides his back, but the way the man tensed up and seemed ready to toss the figure away said he was anything but happy at his son's epic retelling of the character in the box. "And Jason's parents let you watch this?"

"Yeah, they took us to the theater and everything. It was so cool."

Stiles had to admit, not that he was eavesdropping, that did sound kind of cool.

The man turned the box over tentatively. Like a bomb he wasn't sure how to deactivate. Stiles couldn't see his frown, but he could hear it, "Cody, I'm not sure I like the idea of you owning something like this."

"But dad-"

"I know you said everyone has one, but-it's so violent."

Welcome to 2017 Stiles wanted to inform him. Where even kids programing was filled with small amounts of sex and violence.

"You're going to make me the lamest kid in school," the kid, Cody, whined. "I'm already behind the collection as it is and you won't get me the video game either-"

"A game where you can sit and blow people's heads off and pull their insides out? You're ten, what do you need with something like that?" The man shook his head. "You're far too young and this is way too violent."

"Jason's nine and his parents got it for him like four months ago," the boy argued.

"I'm sorry, Cody, but I'm just not comfortable with-"

"You want me to play with baby toys, you don't want me to have anything cool!"

"That's not true, I just don't like the idea of-"

"David will buy if for me!"

The man sounded angry now, "He better not."

Cody sounded cocky, "Mom will let him, she lets him buy me whatever I want. He gets me the cool stuff, he's not lame like you!"

Stiles wasn't sure how hurt could be heard, but he was pretty sure this kid had just crushed his dad's heart.

So anyway, kids, really not Stiles thing (a prime example of why sitting right in front of him) but you know, he kind of needed that figure. Because Scott McCall was clearly not the kind of parent who looked down on head exploding figures (or didn't know and just gave Max what he wanted regardless). Either way, Stiles wasn't telling him.

Twins, his best friend had twins which meant he had to get one gift for a boy. And another for a girl.

It seemed an odd choice to put ponies and dolls on the same aisle as head exploding mutants, but there you have it.

The man didn't say anything as Stiles grabbed for the same figure on the rack behind him, saying a quick 'excuse me'. He brushed the other man's shoulder as they were both too broad for the small space, but with a quick apology the man moved.

"See, he's a cool dad. I wish I had him for a dad."

Oh god. Stiles quickly escaped to the other side of the aisle. He could feel the man's eyes on him, maybe angry, maybe disgusted. Maybe he wanted Stiles to take his kid home with him. "I'm getting a vasectomy," he mumbled to no one in particular. Not that it mattered as his preferences in partners didn't give him much of a chance of knocking anyone up. He prefered the thicker waist and stubble of a man's jaw and the added bonus of no children, well he rathered enjoyed that too.

Stiles ignored the continued bickering, or mostly just the kid moping and his dad trying to sway him towards less violent things. Give it up, guy, he wanted to say. Kids of this generation where born with the word 'fucked' stamped on their forehead. Stiles had seen it time and time again. The internet was a parent's worst nightmare and kids had access to way more shit than they should and monitoring them only seemed to make it worse. Not that it wasn't Stiles's business. Or that he cared.

He pulled out his phone and searched for the text suggesting what his next present should be. Scott had sent it to him earlier, complete with a blurry picture Stiles couldn't begin to make out. 'Princess friendship pony doll' was all the text read.

Stiles lowered the phone and immediately wanted to cry. The wall of Princess Friendship pony dolls was monstrous and he felt a bit ill from all the purple and pink assaulting his eyes. There was every sort of mythical horse and all he could do was stare and wonder which one the picture was supposed to be. Unicorns, pegasus, human, sea ponies (the fuck was a sea pony?) they all looked back at him with giant, glittery eyes and rainbow colored tails. "Great." Talk about being out of your element. Just because he liked men, didn't mean he knew a thing about freaking ponies and whatnot.

Stiles took a step back when a small girl he hadn't noticed before scooted her way beside him. Her big green eyes stared at him, but she said nothing. She couldn't have been more than four or five and held the ends of her blue summer dress in one hand, while using the other to rub at her eye. Her slightly disheveled braid and tired eyes said she'd probably been taken up from a nap too soon. Thankfully, she wasn't cranky and seemed intent on an item high on a shelf she couldn't reach. Stiles followed her line of sight to the fanciest looking unicorn in the entire set. "Is she your favorite?" he asked, before thinking better of it.

The little girl's pale skin and light eyes against her dark hair made her undeniably cute. The kind of cute that was going to have all the guys (and girls) falling after her the older she got. She nodded at his question.

"Oh, okay," Stiles reached for the box, watching the little girl's eyes light up. If she was this excited then Stiles could deduce this doll was popular and probably the one he should get, "Did you want me to get one for you too?"

The little girl stared at the box in his hand, then back to Stiles. Her brows crinkled in thought. Stiles gave her a moment, hoping he hadn't creeped her out and wondering if maybe being the grown man talking to the small child with a pony figure in his hand wasn't the best idea. He handed her the box, regardless, and reached for the one behind it. The box was almost the same size as the girl and she looked at it with the widest eyes Stiles had ever seen. And then she took off, nearly tripping in her excitement.

Stiles shrugged, not thinking much of it. The girl was cute and someone should have been watching her, but he wasn't responsible for other people's kids. He studied the figure in his hand to make sure it wasn't misshapen. He was wondering if he should sack the presents in bags or actually attempt to wrap them, when he heard a familiar voice behind him.

"And that's the one you want?" The same man from before, voice a bit softer, was holding the little girl's hand and moving back towards the Princess Friendship Pony dolls. Stiles was ready to move out of his way and let the man have free reign of the section, all while sending condolences at his having not one, but two children, but he was stopped by a small child once again at his side. "Uh," the girl was beaming at him. "Hi again."

"He likes ponies, daddy," she said quietly to the man. Not quiet enough that Stiles couldn't hear her. A child's version of quiet. It wasn't said mockingly, more like the little girl thought Stiles might be some kind of amazing person she should he in awe of.

"Oh no, I'm actually buying it for a gift," Stiles shouldn't be explaining himself, not to a child, but the girl didn't look like she quite believed him.

"Liv," the man said calmly, with a great deal of patience. "It's probably for his little girl too."

"No, I haven't got-" Stiles turned around, pony in one hand and destructive mutant in the other. He looked full on into the other man's face for the first time. Big mistake. "-kids,' he finished weakly. Sure that his mouth was going to fall off at how hard it was gaping open. Stiles was positive the man would sweep his daughter away and threaten Stiles three different ways to stay away from them. His large arms and toned build told Stiles he might be well attuned with kicking asses, all with a ridiculous out of this world face. Instead, the man raised an eyebrow. His hazel green eyes were distractingly pretty and Stiles found it hard to look away from them, "They're for my niece and nephew, they turn six tomorrow." Stiles tried for a small smile. "Must be the toys all the kids want."

"Seems to be," the man agreed with a return smile. He had deemed Stiles not a creep, apparently. Which was-good?

Stiles searched for the one thing he always did when checking out another man. A wedding ring. The man didn't have one and based on the conversation with his son (his very bratty son, Stiles reminded himself) the man was probably divorced. Divorced with two kids. Stiles needed to turn around and walk away. NOW. Except the man was biting at his lip as if considering something. He was almost an exact copy of the small girl at his feet and they shared the same, quiet demeanor. He was looking at the mutant figure in Stiles's hand and suddenly asked, "Is that really something all the kids have?"

Stiles shrugged as his eyes found the figure too, "I can't say, it's just what I was told to get. I can imagine it is, though." Blood and exploding heads, of course little boys would want something like that. He wasn't a moral compass as to whether it was right, but gore and little boys went pretty much hand in hand.

The man fidgeted and dammit, Stiles was caught off guard when the word adorable entered his mind, "Am I fighting a losing battle by not getting it for him? I don't want to be too protective but, he's only ten."

"Boys will be boys, right?"

The man didn't look like he liked that answer, "I guess."

And as much as he thought exploding heads probably weren't the worst thing in the world, Stiles wasn't for bratty kids getting their way either, "Stand by your guns, if you don't want to get it for him, then don't."

"He already hates me," the man admitted with a sigh, hand moving to his forehead as if to ease away a pain.

And now Stiles had opened up a door he never meant to. "I uh-he's ten, I told my dad I hated him pretty much every day when I was that age."

"I didn't," the man said softly. His eyes fell and Stiles was reminded of a kick puppy, though he was pretty sure this man was older than him.

"Don't be sad, daddy," Liv said, tugging on his arm. "Cody's just bad."

"Don't talk like that about your brother, Liv. He's not bad."

"He is," the girl insisted not to her dad, but to Stiles. As if it were dire news he needed to know, "He gets really mean."

Stiles had to put his agreement with Liv. Cody did seem like a spoiled brat to him. Then again, maybe being denied the hottest toy when your ten is enough to make anyone unpleasant. Stiles had the disadvantage of seeing this man as the walking emptomy of sex on legs and not a stingy dad so his judgment might have been a bit skewed.

"He's mean to my daddy."

"Olivia," the man said, looking embarrassed.

"I don't like it when he is," the girl continued, undeterred. Perhaps she wasn't as shy as Stiles had first thought. He honestly kind of liked how earnest and truthful she was. "Daddy's so nice and he's so mean."

"Olivia, that's enough."

"Will you be my daddy's friend?"

The man's face quickly changed to a bright red that went all the way to his ears. Stiles was both amused and incredibly turned on at the idea of becoming this man's 'friend'. Kids, he reminded himself, divorced single dad with kids.

"She's joking," the man said, trying to usher the girl away. "Olivia, that's not something to joke about, let's leave this man alone." He looked at Stiles hopelessly appalled at his little girls brashness. The poor guy, Stiles felt beyond sorry for the bastard, "I'm sorry, she shouldn't have-"

"It's okay," Stiles assured him. He leaned down so he could speak to Liv, feeling a spark of something he hadn't felt in ages. Cody was still on the other side of the aisle, listening to music in his earbuds so loud, Stiles was pretty sure he couldn't hear a word they were saying. He held a Transformer in his hand but looked anything but thrilled about it. Definitely a brat. "I'd actually really like to be your daddy's friend," Stiles meant it mostly so the girl wouldn't feel like everyone was mean to her dad. It wasn't right for a kid to think their dad didn't have friends. 'He seems pretty cool."

"He is," Liv assured with a determined look and nod. "He's the best."

Stiles looked up at the man who was wearing an unreadable face. He seemed frozen and unsure. All Stiles's senses said the man wasn't entirely straight, but again-kids. He'd been with a woman long enough to have two kids and seemed uncomfortable under Stiles's stare. Stiles smirked, "I'm sure he is. Tell you what," Stiles reached for a business card from his back pocket and handed it to her, "Give this to him and tell him to call me."

The girl nodded solemnly.

The man shook his head, "You don't have to-"

"Ignore the first name on there, my mother was polish. Just call me Stiles."

Before the man could respond or Stiles could see the fate of the card, he was gone. Stiles's feet carried him out of the aisle and it wasn't until halfway to the cash registers that Stiles had a near panic attack. He'd just hit on guy with two kids who might not even be gay. This was one for the books of stupidity, not because it was the first time he'd handed out a business card in such a way. But because it was the first time Stiles knew he would be crushed if he didn't get a call. And to top it off. He didn't even know the man's name. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay soooo-yeah, I decided just to add on more. I really liked the idea of timestamps, but this just sort of wrote itself instead. I'm finding a lot of inspiration from my own life in writing this so if it gets a little too domestic-could be me being a bit too personal. Anyway, thanks for all the feedback last chapter, you guys are amazing. This chapter is a bit slow in the Sterek area, but it's Derek centered and I just love torturing that man. And I promise not a real, real slow burn on Sterek, I'm actually going to jump ahead a little bit next chapter. See you all soon.

“But mom-”

The words were muffled behind the door, but Derek Hale didn’t need to hear them to know what his son was saying. Cody’s tone was annoyed and frantic, as usual. It was the same argument they had almost every time Derek came to pick up his children.

He was lame; his house was boring, Cody didn’t want to go.

It was hard to remember that just a few years ago, he and his son had been inseparable. Just as it was hard to push past the bitterness being in his old home, the home he’d sworn he and Kate would grow old in together and know it wasn’t his anymore. Derek was a stranger in this house, a stranger that had to ring the doorbell and wait to be let in.

David Thompson was the man now screwing his ex-wife. The man responsible for the divorce and Kate cheating on him. David Thompson was pretty much every douchebag Derek had ever met rolled into one. And his picture was everywhere. Everywhere Derek saw pictures of a family, his family, but not a single one with him in it. These were his children, and yet nothing in the house would have told a stranger he'd ever stepped foot in the place, much less helped built it and lived there for almost a decade.

“Daddy?” Liv was squished at his side on the couch using his thigh as a platform for her new pony to prance on.

Derek smiled down at his little girl. The one ray of sunlight and the only thing that made him feel he wasn't a total failure as both a husband and father, “Yeah, baby?”

“Can we watch The Princess Promenade tonight?”

The same video on Netflix they watched nearly every night. Derek hadn't seen a movie rated over PG in what felt like years. “Of course, baby,” he kissed the top of her head, and she nodded sleepy resting her head on his arm.

“Kay.”

David was a hawk, as usual. He kept his mineral water in one hand and his phone in another, standing like he was trying to be the center of the room. Derek gave his pleasantries of not ripping his face off every time he saw him and yet that still wasn't enough. “Any big plans this week?”

Derek shrugged, getting his children every other week did hell on his schedule, but he worked around it at best as he could, “The weather’s nice, maybe we'll go down to the park. Maybe go swimming.”

“Really?” Liv lit up at the idea. She always loved the park and took to the water like a fish despite only being four.

David looked on the verge of offering some parental advice. Being a pediatrician, he often made comments that Liv might be too small for her age-and yet he had no problem letting a ten-year-old play violent video games. Derek was on the verge of telling the man to shove whatever helpful words he was thinking right up his ass when the door to the bedroom flew open.

Cody didn't even look at him as he stomped by. “I'll be in the car.” Like it was a death sentence, and he was being sent to the guillotine.

“I'm getting a little tired of this,” Kate Argent, the once love of Derek's life, looked tired, face pinched. “Every damn time, Derek. I swear one of these times he's going to run away if I keep forcing him.”

Derek swallowed heavy, wanting to think she was exaggerating. But given how things had been recently, the fear she wasn't that far off settled like an anchor in his stomach.

“Olivia, your hair,” The blonde woman sighed, snapping her fingers and making the little girl stand in front of her. “I thought I told you to comb it.”

“I did,” the girl insisted, clutching her pony to her almost defensively as Kate pulled sections of hair apart.

“Her hair is fine, Kate.”

“Oh you’ve become a fashion expert in the last week, have you? I’m sorry that I don't like our children looking homeless.”

“They don't look homeless.”

Kate tutted, grabbing tufts of the little girl's hair and tugging into a tight looking braid. “David and I have been talking,” she began, weaving the long dark tresses over one another. David looked smug as if this was somehow supposed to impress Derek.

“I certainly hope so; he is your husband.”

“Derek, you may find our children's needs to be a joke-”

“I do not,” Derek didn't know how she could even say that. “You know I don't!”

“Don't shout in my house,” Kate said calmly. As if Derek had no right to be angry. As if he were the one who had pulled another man into their bedroom and ruined eight years of marriage. “This can't continue,” she said after a moment. “This isn't healthy for our children.”

“What are you-”

“They need a stable home, Derek. We've been trying to make this work, but it's not. They're unhappy, and Cody texts me the entire time begging to come get him.”

“That's not-”

“They have a home right here and two parents that could be there when they need them. A mother and father who-”

“I'm their father!” Derek exploded.

Kate looked taken aback, and Liv’s eyes widened with tears. His daughter looked scared, and Derek was so pissed at Kate for riling him up. He hadn't exploded like that since probably the divorce, but the woman wanted him angry and scaring his little girl.

“Daddy?”

“Sorry baby,” he murmured as she dashed into his arms, trembling. He glared at Kate who seemed only mildly annoyed, “Anything else?” He snapped through grit teeth.

“You're losing it, sweetie.” The nickname was anything but sweet or well intentioned. “You continue to scare my children, and I’ll make sure you never see them again.”

Liv quivered and hiccupped.

“I’d like to see you try,” he hissed.

Kate hardly looked intimidated, and the look of disapproval on David’s face had Derek glad he was holding his daughter. He hadn't wanted to punch something so badly in all his life.

He stomped from the house, carrying his daughter who seemed afraid to let go of him. “Liv, baby-”

“I don't want you to leave, daddy. Please don't leave.”

Derek inhaled, trying to quiet his raging heartbeat, “I'm not leaving, baby, I promise, I'm not.”

Damn Kate and her bastard husband. Was Derek ever not going to be the bad guy? The bad parent? The one apparently his son no longer wanted or needed?

And how soon would Liv turn too? Would he become a useless parent to her soon too? Derek would absolutely die before he'd let that happen.

Cody’s music blared loudly through the vehicle and Derek was glad to see his son still had the good sense not to go joyriding or more realistically, crash the SUV into something. Usually, Derek would have turned the music down, it was loud, and half the words were angry shouting, but today, Derek let it be.

He didn't have the strength to do anything otherwise.

-

Liv was in full-on princess mode, and Cody had still barely said any words other than to complain about-something. Dinner wasn’t right; he was hot, he was bored, the wifi was too slow.

“Liv, baby, let’s let Cody watch something he wants.” Truthfully, Derek wasn't sure he could handle anymore Pony Princesses. His attention was half on the digital blueprints on his laptop and if asked he probably couldn't name a single Pony in the entire show, but the theme song alone was getting way too repetitive for his sanity.

The girl held onto the remote and shook her head, “No, he’ll pick something stupid.”

“Nothing is stupider than ponies,” Cody sneered. He was hanging halfway off the couch, slumped and bored.

“Ponies aren't stupid.”

“Olivia, give him the remote. He deserves to watch what he wants too.”

“Let her keep it. You won't let me watch it anyway.”

Derek looked up at that, “Why? What have you been watching?”

“Nothing,” the boy quickly answered looking sour. His dark brown eyes seemed annoyed and were quick to look anywhere but at Derek.

“He watches the zombie show, daddy,” Liv said quietly, still clutching the remote. “I’ve seen him.”

“Shut up!” Cody shouted, rising from the couch and rounding angrily on his sister. “God, you’re such a little tattle tale.”

Derek hadn’t seen The Walking Nightmare before, but he knew it wasn’t intended for children, “Cody, is that true?”

“David lets me watch it with him,” Cody admitted, still glaring at Liv. “You weren’t supposed to say anything, but stupid big mouth.”

“It’s scary and I don’t like it,” the little girl countered. “You were scared too, you came into my bedroom and wanted to use my nightlight.”

Cody’s face turned a crimson red. For all his Argent features, he could blush as easily as Derek, “I did not, you’re making that up!”

“He did, daddy, he was scared,” Liv insisted.

Derek had no doubt of that. Years ago, back before Cody had decided Derek was the worst father ever, the boy had habitually slept with a night light and often came running to his and Kate’s bedroom when he was scared. Derek had no doubt the program was too mature and probably kept the boy up at night because of it. He was suddenly angry all over again. How could Kate let her husband watch something intended for teenagers seventeen or older in front of a ten-year-old when she knew what a fear of the dark and monsters their son had? It was part of the reason Derek hadn’t bought him that figure, Cody was no doubt trying to fit in, but the boy was more sensitive than he let on.

“I was not, you stupid baby!” Cody yelled. “I hate you! I wish you’d never been born!”

“Cody!”

“I hate this place; I want to go home!” Cody yelled before taking off to his room. The whole room seemed to shake with his anger as he tore down the hallway and slammed the door shut.

Liv’s eyes were full of tears, but they didn’t fall, “He told me not to tell David, but he was scared, daddy.”

Derek pushed his laptop away and rubbed at his eyes, unsure if he should be going after his son, or be consoling his daughter, “It’s okay, sweetheart, just-maybe no more television for the rest of the night.” It was getting past seven anyway. Liv huffed, seeming a little annoyed, but put the remote down. In doing so, she knocked over a small binder filled with important papers Derek had left on the coffee table. One business card, the one Derek had bent and twisted every which way wondering just what in the hell the ridiculously good looking man was thinking giving it to him, flew right under the girl’s bare foot. Derek hoped maybe she didn’t remember the design or what the card was from, but Liv’s memory was as sharp as Derek hoped it wouldn’t be.

The girl picked up the card and ran to him, “Call your friend, Daddy.”

“Olivia it’s late, and he’s a very busy man.” The truth was Derek had dialed the number twice, but could never make himself hit the call button. “Maybe tomorrow.” Or never, that worked too.

“He’s your friend, daddy, David calls his friends. Even really late.”

“Olivia, I’m not-”

“Please daddy, what if he’ll play Princess Ponies with me?” Liv sounded amazed at the thought, and Derek wondered which one of them the girl thought the man was supposed to befriend.

“Sweetheart, I doubt he plays with ponies.”

“He might if I ask him. Daddy, please?”

Derek looked at his daughter and the card, bending the corner uncertainly. The man had suggested to Liv that he should call, but Derek hadn’t been sure if the wink he left with had been for him, or his daughter. What if he called and the man laughed or hung up? What if the offer had only been to appease his daughter and nothing else? What it-

“You die old and alone?”

Derek could hear his sister Cora’s voice chastising him for his abysmal dating life and how almost hermit-like he’d become. He had to admit as much as he loved his daughter, right now, Derek felt he could really use a friend he wasn’t related to. Not Peter or Cora or even Erica seemed like an option he wanted to pursue.

"Stand by your guns, if you don't want to get it for him, then don't."

The number was dialed, and Derek let his finger hover over the call button once again. He could do this, he could-Dammit. His thumb moved down, and the phone starting ringing and Derek was sure he was doing something very, very stupid. He didn’t know this guy, he couldn’t even pronounce his first name (call me Stiles), and Derek was sure he was going to get either laughed at or hung up on. When a voice answered on the third ring Derek almost tossed the phone away.

“Hello?” the voice sounded tired, maybe a little irritated, certainly not a tone Derek thought he should be bothering right now. “Hello, is someone there?”

Speaking. Speaking was a good idea, “Yeah-um, it’s-I-uh-” Wow, it may have been a while, but damn was Derek bad at this.

“What? I can’t hear you, who is this?”

“It’s-uh, we met at the-”

“Daddy,” Liv said near his ear and almost directly into the phone. Derek didn’t remember the girl climbing on the sofa beside him, and he jumped at the volume of her voice.

“Daddy?” the man sounded confused.

“Olivia,” Derek hissed, hoping his mouth was far away from the speaker, so Stiles didn’t hear him. It took a moment for things to click, and when the man responded again, his tone was completely different.

“Oh, oh my god, it’s you. You actually called.” It had been close to three weeks, so the surprise had to be genuine.

“Should I not have?”

“What-oh no, you definitely should have. I honestly thought you’d blown me off.”

“I wasn’t sure if you were serious,” Derek admitted.

“Oh yeah, I was way serious, You’re uh-how are you?”

“Been better,” Derek admitted.

“Kids?” Stiles said in a knowing tone that said Derek didn’t have to elaborate

“Sort of.”

“How’s Liv?”

“She um-” Derek felt the first real smile pull at his face in days. “Honestly, she thinks you’re going to come play Pony Princess with her.”

“You can be Sparkle Hoof,” Liv said into the phone again.

Stiles laughed, and it was a nice, refreshing sound, “Well I don’t know what a Sparkle Hoof is but-is it on Netflix?”

“Yeah,” Derek chuckled. “Trust me; I’ve seen every episode at least five times.”

“Oh well, maybe I should catch up then,” Stiles said with a light tease.

The thought made Derek’s heart swell the slightest bit. He wasn’t sure why and in the end he was sure Stiles wasn’t serious but-

“And how’s the little mutant man?”

And Derek’s good mood crashed. The thought of Cody and his anger and resentment and Kate’s threats that maybe the kids only needed one home came piling on like a ton of bricks, crushing Derek right down to the floor.

“I feel like I’ve just let a grenade off,” Stiles joked. “That bad?”

“Did you really tell your dad you hated him all the time when you were that age?”

Derek could almost see the shrug from the dark haired man, “I mean I’m sure I did a few times. My mom had died, and it was just him and me and he drank a lot.”

“Oh-sorry.”

“But even if I said it, I sure as hell never meant it. He did his best, and I knew that. I was just-mad at the situation, I think. There was a lot of bitterness and just a lot of shit I was really angry about, you know?”

Derek nodded before realizing Stiles couldn't see it, “I was always really close with my dad, we would go on fishing trips and play baseball, he even helped coached my teams.”

“I might be jumping in a bit too boldly here, but it sounds like you want that to be you,” Derek could hear a fridge closing like Stiles was maybe getting something from it.

“I don't know, maybe. I’m sorry if this was a bad time to call.”

“What? No, I-” there was a blip coming from the other man’s end. “ Well shit, my battery’s dying, damn charger, I need a new one.”

“Oh well, I’ll let you go then, I should probably get Liv to bed anyway.”

“Wait!” Stiles sounded frantic, and Derek remained on the line. “Jesus, sorry,” Like he knew he’d been too loud. “I was just afraid you would hang up, and I still wouldn’t know your name. I mean I’m pretty sure you don’t want me to call you ‘Daddy,' do you?”

Derek swallowed. There was something in the undertone of that question that made his face burn a little.

“Oh my God, I made you blush, didn’t I?”

“No.”

Stiles laughed, “Yes, I did.”

Derek pushed down another rebuttal because he was pretty sure the blush could be heard through the phone anyway. “Derek. My name is Derek.”

Stiles hummed. It sounded like he had a big glob of something in his mouth, “Well Derek, now I can add a name to the number. Look, no shitting or anything but I hope everything works out okay and promise me something, will you?” Derek didn’t a get chance to reply, “Call me tomorrow, alright? I’ll make sure my phone is charged so-promise you’ll call.”

Derek had no clue if it was a promise he intended to keep, but he said the words anyway, “I promise.”

Either the battery finally died, or Stiles hung up. Either way, the dial tone hung heavy in Derek’s ears. He turned to see a smug looking four year old. He raised a brow at her crossed arms and Hale like look of superiority.

“Don't get high and mighty on me; you’re going to bed, missy. You’ve caused enough problems.”

It was actually more of a thank you and Liv giggled as he blew a raspberry on her cheek.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is basically all fluff, no real plot. I couldn't help myself. Thanks for the feedback again and I hope you all enjoy some good old fashion corniness of two dorks falling in love.
> 
> And poor Cody, you guys really don't like him, do you, lol. (Ps I had no idea the actor who played Theo's name was Cody, pretty funny)

“Crap.”

The word was hissed over what sounded like the smoke alarm. Stiles was in the midst of hitting the next Pony Princess episode on Netflix (sound muted of, course) but reading the subtitles he was getting more and more attached to the stupid ponies, and their quest for friendship and the sudden, grinding sound made him pull the phone away.

“Yikes,” he said after a moment. “Everything okay? Should I call the fire department?” It was a joke of course, but Stiles did indeed know the fire chief Jordan Parrish, and the idea of someone having to fireman carry Derek from his home (and yes, Stiles might be volunteering) was beyond amusing.

“No, I’m-dammit,” it sounded like something was being tossed in the sink. A pan, maybe, “I just burnt my chicken is all.”

“Burnt your chicken?” Stiles said absently. “How did you manage that?”

Derek didn’t respond. Thankfully the alarm had stopped, and Stiles was sure he had heard the question. Derek was embarrassed, and the idea was so downright adorable, Stiles wished he could see Derek standing there trying to look indignant with his tomato red face, “Not much of a cook, are you?”

Derek grit out the words, “I-try.”

“In the words of the great Master Yoda, ‘Do or do not, there is no try.’”

Derek chuckled, “You’re weird.”

“I’m just wondering how a man who can construct homes doesn’t know when to turn the fire down,” Stiles teased. “You’ve built kitchens, right; you should know what the stove does.” Stiles stared down at his own freshly made lobster ravioli and frowned. Such a time-consuming thing ate all alone. Was it pathetic or ambitious? “What kind of chicken was it anyway?”

“-The kind of chicken that comes in a package labeled chicken?”

Stiles smirked. Smartass. “No, I mean what were you planning on doing with it?”

Derek said the words slowly, “Eating it.”

“You’re a barbarian, Derek Hale. I meant-”

“I saw the recipe in a magazine I bought, and I thought I’d try it out. I need to eat healthier, and I just thought I should try cooking more. I’ve put on a few pounds the last two years-”

“Yeah, like where, your big toe?” Stiles nearly choked on his pasta at the idea. If Derek started on that he was fat or something; there were going to be words. Derek was the perfect combination of thick, strong limbs that came from more than just a gym. There was a difference between a body that worked and a body that ‘worked out’-Stiles knew his men well enough to tell immediately who was a meathead with superficial strength and who would come by and singlehandedly move your couch. Derek was the later.

“It’s all downhill after thirty,” Derek joked. “Everyone always warned me it doesn’t come off as quickly and I just don’t want it spiraling.”

“I don’t think anything is spiraling,” Unless you counted the idea spiraling in Stiles’s head that eating off of Derek’s abs might be something he very much wanted to try. “Wait-you’re thirty?”

Something shifted and clattered, and Derek gave a light curse as he turned on the kitchen sink. Just what was the man doing, fumbling everything in sight? The image alone gave Stiles very pleasant goosebumps, “Last September. Trust me, it sucks.”

Was it odd that seeing a three in front of Derek’s age was actually insanely hot? Stiles had a reputation for dating older men, but none of them looked like Derek in his ridiculously tight shirt no father of two should be able to pull off without looking like a complete tool, instead of possibly the hottest thing ever, “I’m going to be twenty-five next month.”

Derek snorted, “I hate you.”

“You’re just mad because you're hungry and I’m having a big bowl of Lobster Ravioli right now,” he took a bite to make his point.

He could hear the interest peaking in Derek’s voice, “Yeah?”

“Yep and it's a shame because I made an awful lot.” Stiles found himself doing this more and more throughout their daily conversations. Openly flirting was different than talking and joking and giving Derek crap. Because in the end, Stiles was sure Derek was gay--or at least not completely straight, but so far nothing had come from their phone calls other than frustration. The frustration that Stiles was forever in the friend zone with a man he was convinced was either completely clueless or really did want Stiles as only a friend. After handing Liv the card, Stiles had waited by the phone for the first day or two before giving up. Stiles always gave a 72-hour leeway before admitting the person wasn’t interested. And he’d honestly thought Derek hadn’t been interested. But he wasn’t reading a complete dismissal either. It was confusing and beyond frustrating. Derek was cute, borderline unfairly so, but Stiles didn’t want to be the one making more of this than what it was. “I’m a pretty good cook. I should make something for you sometime.”

A blink. Another blink. Oh god, he’d done it. He’d just officially put himself in the ‘well you’re nice, and I really like you, Stiles. But let’s be-”

“Actually, I was thinking I’d like to take you to dinner.” It was said quick, but firm. As if Derek wanted to say it all in one go.

Stiles blinked, “Oh.” Not the response he was expecting. A good, no freaking fantastic response, but still, not what he was expecting. “Okay.”

“I-shit it’s been awhile, sorry if that was too-forward.”

Too forward? Did Derek think Stiles needed a dowry and permission from his father first? Stiles had been basically jacking off the last few nights to Derek’s perfectly proportioned face, and Derek thought that was being too forward? God, this man got more endearing every time he spoke. “Derek, I said okay.”

Derek breathed, “Okay as in-”

Had the word changed meanings recently? Stiles smiled, “Okay as in I’ve been waiting for you to ask me out for days now so yes Derek, I would love to go to dinner with you.”

“Maybe-Friday?”

“As long as it’s after five, I’m good.”

“Okay.”

Stiles turned teasing, “Okay as in-”

He was sure Derek was smiling, “Don’t be a smartass.”

“You should probably know right now smartass is my middle name.” He didn’t add that he was positive, sexy ass was Derek’s middle name (or at least, it should be). Best not to go overboard and scare the already nervous man away.

“I’m beginning to realize that.”

“So you doing anything fun with the kids tomorrow?” Stiles was finding it hard to remember that yes, Derek had kids and yes, those kids were important to him. It seemed polite to inquire about them even if the subject wasn’t something he immediately thought of when thinking about Derek Hale (not that any child should know any of the thoughts Stiles had on Derek Hale). He tried to keep Derek focused more on himself, and his passions, but like it or not, the man was a father. A fiercely protective father, at that. Kids. Stiles wanted to groan. He was going after a man with kids.

“Liv’s been wanting to go swimming again. I haven’t got my pool finished yet, so I have to take her to my friend Erica’s. She’s got a little girl too. We’ll probably do that.”

Stiles smiled. Liv was obviously crazy about her dad, and that made Stiles like her all the more because Stiles liked Derek too and he definitely appreciated the man having at least one child who clearly loved him. It was speaking about the other one that always brought the tension. It wasn’t that Stiles couldn't see that maybe Cody was a decent kid but--okay, yes it was. There was a large part of Stiles that wanted to tell Derek he was trying too hard and possibly pushing his son further away, but it wasn’t his place--and dammit, this was why kids just weren’t something he considered. Kids brought about complications and bringing up Cody was always a complication. Stiles kept it light and huffed, feigning a whine, “Aw man, I’m totally jealous. I’m a kickass swimmer.”

“Not me,” Derek admitted. “I uh-god don’t laugh, but I can only doggy paddle.”

Too late. The image alone was enough to make Stiles full on giggle, “Oh my god, Derek, how-are you for real?”

“I said don’t laugh, and yes, I am very ‘for real.'”

“Well don’t worry, we can get you those little floaty things they make for little kids,” Stiles snickered. “Or better yet, I can come rescue you.”

Derek tutted, “I may be a bit too heavy for you.”

“Nah,” Stiles waved the notion away. “I’m pretty strong; I used to do running and lacrosse.”

“Basketball.”

“Hm,” Stiles liked the idea of a sweaty Derek running up and down a court sinking one basket after another. “Wonder who could run faster?”

Derek laughed, “Definitely you, I haven’t played in years.”

“You make yourself sound like a grandpa.”

It was silent for a moment. “Sometimes I feel like one,” Derek admitted.

Well, Stiles would have to change that, wouldn’t he? “Trust me, Derek you’re hardly over the hill. And if you are a grandpa, you’re definitely the sexiest grandpa I’ve ever seen.”

Derek choked on a cough.

Stiles grinned, he only wished he could see the man’s reaction instead of merely hearing it, “I should probably go now.”

“You-” Derek coughed again. “You’re-”

“Looking forward to Friday. Nighty night.” Stiles hung up the phone, wondering for the about the fiftieth time in the last week just what in the hell he was doing. Was he out of his league with all this? Probably. But hell if he didn’t feel like Derek Hale was a man worth knowing.

And he meant that in the biblical sense because if Stiles didn’t get to kiss those lips soon, he might just explode. Twenty-five he reminded himself, he was turning twenty-five. Seriously, the way he went on imagining Derek on top of him, the man’s large hands intertwined in his own, Stiles might as well have been fifteen. In love for the first time and feeling butterflies in his stomach. It was disgusting really, and no, Stiles did not groan into his couch when realizing he was watching a show aimed at children because he wanted to know who the hell ‘Sparkle Hoof’ was. Nope.

\--

Dating as a gangly, awkward teenager had been hard. Finding anyone to say yes had been hard enough, but finding anyone to actually show up had been even harder. Needless to say, Stiles was used to being stood up. It hadn’t happened in years, not since he’d finally learned to use his looks to his advantage and had bulked up a little bit. Still, the old familiar feeling was starting to creep up, and Stiles was seventeen again, being left to look like an idiot in a ridiculous hand me down suit as Theo Raeken showed up to prom with someone else, laughing at him and ignoring the flowers he’d brought for him.

“Freak actually thought I was for real. Come on, man, get a life, Bilinski” Grey eyes had laughed at him, and Stiles had left his Jeep, running all the way home on adrenaline and anger, tossing the flowers on the ground and cursing himself for being such an idiot. In almost ten years he’d come so far, gaining confidence that he was attractive, that he could be charming, that--

\--Well apparently, that he could still be stood up.

It just didn’t seem like Derek. Stiles didn’t know the man that well but he’d appeared to be more responsible that this. More-caring than to be this cruel. Stiles looked at his watch again--a half hour late. He sighed, wondering if he should drink himself silly or go home and admit defeat.

And then a panting man was at the table, looking sheepish and flushed. Stiles barely looked in his direction as the man suddenly and rather unexpectedly sat down. “Um-” Stiles started, looking up at the man’s rather abrupt seating. He was about to say something about the seat being taken before realizing it probably wouldn’t be but stopped. Stiles squinted, took a good look and his mouth fell open.

“Derek?”

The man’s face was pink and apologetic, “I am so sorry, I had a client going crazy over a cabinet one of guys screwed up. I was trying to call you, but I kept getting your voicemail.”

Stiles just continued to stare, sure that he resembled a fish, “You wear glasses?”

“Yeah,” Derek's fingers moved to the side of the black frames as if self-conscious. “Sorry, I know I look like a dork, but I can’t see without them, and Liv knocked my last pair of contacts into the sink last night. I can take them off, but I won't be able to see anything.”

“Take them off?” Stiles asked shakily. He needed the check. Nevermind that they hadn’t ordered anything, he needed the check right freaking now.

“Is it that bad? Sorry, I’ll-” Derek went as if to take them off, but Stiles clamped a hand to stop him.

“No, leave them on. They’re--” How could this man continue to get sexier and sexier with every imperfect thing about him? His bunny toothed smile, the small amount of gray hairs standing out in the light and now freaking glasses? “They look good.”

Derek nodded and left them be, “I swear I’m not normally late. I used to show up to dates fifteen minutes early--I-” Derek shuddered over a heavy breath.

“Breathe,” Stiles smiled at him. Usually, he was the one having trouble breathing for one reason or another. “It’s okay. I mean I was sort of having flashbacks of bad dates in high school and about ready to cry, but the glasses make up for it,” he joked.

Derek ducked his head and the first thought to enter Stiles’s head was Clark Kent, the man looked like a very sexy Clark Kent with those glasses and-- “You should wear them more often.”

Derek smiled and nodded. He looked Stiles over, “You look nice.”

Not nearly as nice as you, Stiles wanted to counter. “I try.”

“Well, you ‘try’ very well.”

“Now who’s being the smartass?”

Derek shrugged. He bit his lip and sighed, face turning a bit worried again, “I’m really am sorry if you thought I’d forgotten or stood you up.”

And Stiles felt about the biggest idiot ever. Even more of an idiot than when Theo had stood him up. He should have known better and not assumed the worst.

“I’m surprised you didn’t leave,” Derek admitted. “I half expected you to be gone.”

Stiles looked down at the menu, his head swimming a bit. He had a lot of things on his mind, but truthfully food wasn’t one of them, “How hungry are you?”

Derek started up from his own menu and frowned, “Well, I mean I haven’t eaten anything since lunch, but-”

“Look, I’m the one who’s going to be forward here because I’ve been thinking about you for a while and seriously, I want to cook for you. I have some stuff at the house, but--” the truth was he wanted more than just a conversation right now. They had been talking all week, but with Derek in front of him, physical and real, Stiles wanted a more personal setting--preferably with a bed. “I mean unless you’d rather-”

“Are you asking me to come home with you?”

Stiles swallowed, “I mean I was trying to be a bit more romantic, but yeah. I really will cook something. I’m not half bad, and I promise I don’t burn things.”

The joke fell flat as Derek nervously thumbed his menu, “I’m not sure I can promise-anything.”

“It’s okay. Honestly, we can sit and watch Princess Ponies if you want I just--” want to be near you. Not in a restaurant where everyone could see. He wanted Derek to himself. Yes, Stiles was selfish, he was an only child and used to not having to share. And if he and Derek could eat half (or even fully) naked, all the better.

“I mean I’ll have to hide all the dead bodies first, but-”

Derek gave a look.

“Kidding.”

Derek took a nervous gulp of air, “Alright.” He gave a light smile, and Stiles swore he was going to kiss those lips swollen. “But--can we take it slow?”

“Slow and steady wins the race,” Stiles winked. “Now let’s get the hell out of here.” His ass was off the seat as if one fire. He left a couple of bucks for the poor waitress who had to wait over a half hour for nothing. His fingers itched and easily found the small of Derek’s back, steering him towards the exit. 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Been awhile (she says after almost a year of not updating) sorry everyone--life, ya know. I feel completely out of the loop of doing this but here it goes anyway.

“Holy shit, does this mean you’re finally getting laid?”

Derek was forced to cringe while taking the device from his ear.

“God, Cora, I know you’re not a saint, but at least try and watch what you say, will you?”

Cora Hale was as blunt and uncaring of decorum as ever. Leaving his kids with his parents had been out, too many questions and concerns from his mother and Laura could barely stand with being so pregnant so--unfortunately, Cora was his last court approved babysitter left. Goodie. “The goobers are inside, Der. Tense much?”

Derek stalled, his breath a bit hitched, “Why would you even say that, anyway? I’ll just be a bit longer, that’s all. No one said anything about--that.” Derek knew he was blushing, but Stiles couldn’t see him and as he followed the GPS to the address he was sure his flush would disappear by the time he made it there. Probably. Hopefully.

And it wasn’t like he didn’t know what sex was--Derek was aware that Stiles was incredibly attractive and he remembered the warmness of the man’s hand on his back. He had two children, Derek knew how sex worked.

He also had made it clear that he couldn’t promise anything and Stiles seemed okay with that.  
Though those brown eyes had been rather intense.

Derek adjusted his glasses at the remembrance.

“Despite being younger than you I wasn’t born yesterday,” Cora let out a near snort mixed with a giggle. “And I think you’re old enough to call them booty calls. Though I can’t remember the last time YOU had one, thus the surprise.”

“It’s not a--” Derek stopped at the thought. It wasn’t, was it? Except--what if it was? He liked Stiles and all, but was this appropriate for a father? A father already grasping to hold onto his children? Jesus, what sort of example was the setting? Go and screw the first person who takes you on a date. Not only that but a first date as well. Not that he prayed either of his children would ever learn what sex was (which was an anxiety all its own) but-- “Oh god, you’re right I need to--”

“Oh my god, Derek, don’t get all wound up, I was joking,” with her flat tone it might have been hard to tell, but Derek knew his sister was indeed teasing him. “Liv knows who he is and Peter has his ‘connections’, “the finger quote was heavily insinuated in the deepening of her voice. “--it’s not like he’d get too far if he murdered you or anything.”

Derek’s eyes rolled, “Gee, thanks. Glad to know that’s your main concern.”

“Hey, you’re the one with the record for psychopaths, not me.”

“Stop,” this was really not the time or place to get into the longstanding Hale drama and bitterness with his ex-wife. Tonight had nothing to do with Kate. “Just tell the kids I love them and I’ll see them--”

“Tomorrow?”

“I--uh,” Derek fumbled once again. “Just say later, alright?”

“It better be tomorrow. He better at least make you breakfast or something.”

“I’m not—“ the GPS dinged that his destination was on the right and Derek’s heart thumped. “It’s just dinner at his house.”

“Could have had dinner at the restaurant.”

Derek’s voice fell and his thoughts turned to something else. Another small worry that had been eating away all evening, “How is he?”

Cora took the conversation jump with a small humph, “Who? Your devil spawn?”

“Cora, please—“

He could see the hand wave, “Yeah, yeah he’s got Hale in there somewhere, but Christ does that woman have her claws in him. He used to be so sweet.”

“She’s his mother,” Derek reminded. “And he’s a good kid just—“ quiet. As in Cody hadn’t said a word all day. Just played with the fringe getting too long in his face and huffed. He didn’t even whine or make any sarcastic or mean comments. The boy had been mostly silent when he’d found out Derek was leaving. Cold, even. Derek wasn’t sure if it was worse than his constant complaints.

Parking the SUV, Derek frowned. The apartment complex seemed more daunting than it should have. Checking to make sure he looked at least somewhat decent and not at all the disheveled mess he felt, he took a breath.

“I have to go,” he decided because no, Derek wasn’t running away from this.

“You know I’ll be upping my overtime charges to double for every second.”

“I’ll make it up to you,” Derek assured.

“Yeah, sure you will,” Cora snarked with slight humor. “Try to have some fun with it and for god’s sake wear protection.”

“Jesus.”

“Go get em, tiger.”

Derek’s nose crinkled at the click on the other line. Once his phone was away and he was staring at the stucco wall in front of him, Derek realized, with a small amount of sickness, he had to leave the car. Which made sense. But why the hell was it suddenly so daunting? Derek could date, he was allowed. It’s not like his life had stopped the moment Kate had left him. Not that it hadn’t felt that way at the time, but this was natural. Derek liked Stiles and his overly expressive eyes and the twinkle they always seemed to have. He liked Stiles’ large warm hands and his sense of humor. Derek was allowed to enjoy himself for a night.

Right?

“Um,” A tap at his window had Derek’s heart beating too fast. He saw it was Stiles looking both worried and slightly sheepish as the man gave a small wave. Opening the door with a small completely reactionary smile, Derek exited the vehicle.

“Sorry, I thought maybe you were broken or something.”

“No, I was just calling the babysitter.”

“Oh.” Stiles didn’t seem to know what else to say to that. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, just letting her know I’ll be a bit later than I thought.”

Stiles’ tongue swiped across his plush bottom lip, almost nervous-looking, “Gotcha. It’s, I mean, is it okay?”

Derek continued to smile, hoping it came across as reassuring, “Yeah, it’s fine. It’s my sister. She’ll just raid my fridge and eat all the ice cream and blame it on the kids.”

The younger man’s eyes seemed to travel his whole face and now Derek was the one to wonder if he’d somehow broken Stiles. “How--” the man shook his head. He really did look nice in a button down shirt and tight dark wash jeans.

“How?” Derek teased softly.

“How do you do that?”

“Um, do what?” Derek asked, genuinely confused. “Do I have something on my face?” The amount of concentration Stiles was peering at him with, Derek wondered if his whole face wasn’t slathered in ketchup. Or maybe he had a weird ingrown hair that kept moving around.

“I mean a little but like in a very, very good way,” Another lip lick. “I’m being weird, aren’t I?”

“Confusing,” Derek corrected.

Stiles shrugged and that seemed to be the extent of the explanation for his odd behavior, “Obviously, you can tell why I’m still single. You’re just like--extremely out of my league.”

“Hardly,” Derek laughed. “You’re young and ambitious and I’m divorced and haven’t been on a date in years.” Sadly, that wasn’t a lie. Since Kate, Derek had thrown himself into work, not romance. He hardly felt like he was dating material anymore.

Stiles’ lip flipped up at that, “Well I guess I should feel honored then.” His eyes flicker up the stairs in front of them. “My condo is up there.” He bit his lip and Derek wondered if the man was aware how much biting and lip licking he did. It was distracting, to say the least. “So remember how I said I had to move dead bodies?” Before Derek could answer, he continued. “Well, um I was only sort of half kidding.”

“I’m sorry?”

Stiles rocked on his heel and shuffled his hair, “Just uh--let’s say I have hobbies and ways that I do things so just--don’t freak out, alright? I promise I’m not crazy.”

Derek wasn’t even sure how to respond.

Stiles pulled on a lock of gelled hair, “I would have moved it, but I wasn’t expecting this. The place is a mess and I’m, just don’t freak out on me. Please?”

Derek felt a small smile at the man’s sudden nervousness. It was endearing that he thought a little mess might scare Derek away. Clearly, he’d never experienced dirty diapers and getting peed on. Not to mention crayon murals on freshly painted walls (and boy had Kate screamed about that), “Stiles, I have two kids, I know about messes. It’s alright, really.”

Stiles exhaled, “Yeah. Well, I guess you’re going to see either way.”

“It’s not a big deal, honestly.”

Stiles gave a look, shrugged and started up the stairs, “Can’t say I didn’t warn you.”

\--

Derek isn’t sure what he’s looking at. It’s a mass of strings and pictures and lots of red. His eyes take a minute to adjust and he even takes his glasses off to make sure he’s not hallucinating that Stiles does indeed have a--whatever the hell is going on in the man’s front room.

“Is this the part where you wear my skin or make me a lampshade?” Derek might be kidding, or perhaps not. He honestly has no clue. There has to be a reason and rhyme to it, but it feels like a maze of pictures and strings kind of just coming from everywhere.

“Hey, I gave you fair warning, didn’t I?”

“You did,” Derek agreed. Studying the images and strings with both fascination and slight horror. “Are these people, dead?”

“Some,” Stiles admitted. “It’s um--I like solving crimes.”

“I thought you were a journalist?”

A waved hand, “I have hobbies. Other interests than the messed up politics of this country. I mean you can only write so many stories about the horse in the white house, you know? I investigate for the police in my free time.”

Derek felt his brows furrow, “And they’re okay with that?”

Stiles shrugged, “Mostly. My dad doesn’t really approve, but he doesn’t try to stop me anymore. He’s the sheriff,” he said to Derek’s confused look.

“Oh.” Derek was pretty sure he already knew that.

“You’ve still got that I want to bolt and never speak of this again look,” Stiles smirked. “I wouldn’t blame you. My last boyfriend hated it. He wanted to have me evaluated and I’m not sure he was kidding.”

“No,” Derek shook his head. “It’s--interesting. And I think I can see the line you have going.” Derek was starting to see the logic in the strings and where each one was pinned to. Not that he understood completely but there was obviously a method to the madness.

Stiles laughed, “Well, I’ll take it above crackpot fucking insane.”

“I’m not sure I would hire as my interior decorator, though.”

“Fair enough,” Stiles turned his head, studying Derek with a genuine smile. “You actually seem interested.”

“A little.”

“I knew there was a reason I liked you.”

Derek stilled, bringing his hand back from the string, “I’m sorry it took me so long to call.”

Stiles’ shoulders lifted, “Honestly, I was surprised that you did. But, I’m glad you finally did. I guess I should be thanking Liv for that, though.”

Derek laughed, “Yeah, she’s--she really seems to like you.”

And that was another reason Derek had made the decision to ask Stiles out. Liv was actually a cautious girl, despite her sunny nature. The fact that she trusted Stiles was, to Derek, a very good sign.

“Well, I think she’ll like me even more now that I can recite the whole Pony Princess theme song by heart.”

“Dear god, please don’t,” Derek groaned.

“Maybe later,” Stiles snorted with a laugh. “But for now,” he pulled away from the wall and laid his keys on the counter that lead into the kitchen. “I did promise dinner, didn’t I?”

Derek followed him, studying the Darth Vader toaster on the granite countertop with a raised brow. There seemed to be cookbooks all over. Most seemed well worn and several appeared to be in another language.

“Polish,” Stiles said over his shoulder. “They were my mom’s.”

Derek remembered Stiles saying he had lost his mother and nodded. “Must mean a lot to you.”

“Yeah, except my mom was a horrible cook. I loved her, but man could she burn water.” Stiles bumped his shoulder. “Sounds like someone else I know.”

“I happen to be a pro at making boxed macaroni and cheese, I’ll have you know,” Derek rebutted. Still, he couldn’t deny that cooking was hardly his forte.

“Well sorry, you’re just going to have to deal with the real stuff for now,” Stiles winked. “And trust me, once you start, you won’t want to stop.”

Derek grinned, “We’ll see.”

“Oh, I smell a challenge in that statement, Mr. Hale. Alright, big guy, challenge accepted.”

\--

“Holy shit, I was totally fucking with you,” Stiles said as he finished the last of the bottle of wine into Derek’s glass. His tone was too loud and he swayed a bit as he took the bottle back. “I don’t think I’ve ever actually finished a whole serving off with just two people before.”

“Well, I don’t think I’ve had anything this good since--” Derek thought. He could say since Kate had left, but truthfully, Kate didn’t cook that often. “Maybe ever.”

Stiles hummed, pushing against Derek with a laugh. He was rosy-cheeked and it was obvious he’d had enough to be slightly tipsy. “You think that’s good? You should try my Polish sausage sometime.”

Derek snorted. His stomach was full and heavy with both wine and pasta. It was nice and he was more than content at being so warm, especially with Stiles’ bright smile so close, “Is that a play on words?” He wasn’t sure why the joke seemed so funny. If indeed, it was a joke.

Two adorable and very wide eyes opened alongside a gaping mouth.

“Oh,” Stiles slapped his arm playfully. He tried to regain his balance and instead fell face first into Derek’s lap. “Oh, I get it.”

“I think you might be a little drunk,” Derek supplied. He didn’t remove the man and instead pet his hair. Maybe Derek was a little drunk as well.

Stiles turned his head and giggled into Derek’s crotch. He looked up, his eyes stilling for a moment. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous. I know you must hear it all the time, but god damn.”

Derek shook his head, and immediately regretted it as his vision swam, “Not really.”

“What the fuck is wrong with people? You’re like--” Stiles swiped at air probably assuming it was near Derek’s face. “Fucking sunshine in a--face.”

“You’re drunk,” Derek reminded.

“And you’re gorgeous.”

“You already said that.”

Stiles’ face sobered and he righted himself on the couch. He was on his knees faster than Derek could follow and suddenly leaning into the man’s face. He stopped right as their noses touched and all Derek could manage was a swallow as he watched the man study him, “Deserves repeating,” Stiles finally murmured.

“I-”

Stiles moved the slightest bit back as if suddenly concerned, “Oh Jesus, --You’re not straight, are you? It wouldn’t be like really weird if I kissed you right now, would it?”

Derek let out a laugh, “Would I have asked you out if I was?”

“Oh yeah, sorry you just looked scared for a second.” Stiles looked adorably lost and Derek’s hand found his hair again. It was no longer gelled but seemed in a state of disarray that was sexier than it probably should have been.

“It’s--been awhile,” Derek admitted. His breathing was a bit labored but he couldn’t help how his heart thumped at how close Stiles’ mouth was. It was plush and sculpted in a way Derek thought it might just be the most perfect set of lips he’d ever seen. “Too long.”

Stiles hummed in agreement and leaned forward.

The whole couch started to buzz quite pleasantly. It seemed the alcohol was having more than one nice effect on Derek’s senses.

“Um, are you vibrating?”

Derek looked down and to the side, it did indeed seem that the buzzing was, if possible, getting more intense. Primarily near his crotch.

Stiles pointed none too subtly at it, “I mean I’d be happy if that was for me, but I’m pretty sure that’s your phone.”

Oh right.

Derek fumbled, pulling the device out he slurred a hello that might have been more an aggressive growl than it needed to be.

“Oh god, you’re drunk, aren’t you?”

“Maybe,” he growled at his sister, “Cora, what the hell?”

“Sorry, okay, I wouldn’t have called if it wasn’t an emergency.”

Derek’s eyes widened at the word emergency and he almost knocked Stiles over with how quickly he sat up, “What happened?” His first fear was a fire, Liv or Cody getting hurt, or worse, but the bombshell he was met with had his gut falling to the floor.

“It’s Cody. Shit, Der, I can’t find him. I’ve looked everywhere but--I think he’s--”

Kate’s early threat reignited sadness and anger and now a numbness as Cora finished, “Run away.”


End file.
